


Ne me quitte pas, mon cher

by nupoxsi



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M, Porn With Plot, Sibling Incest, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 21:41:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1201636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nupoxsi/pseuds/nupoxsi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s Valentine’s Days and Iker has a plan. Also, Unai is gorgeous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ne me quitte pas, mon cher

**Author's Note:**

> I was supposed to post this last Friday, but I guess I procrastinate too much. There's nothing much to add, it's something that needed to be written and Valentine's day is the perfect excuse for it.  
> A million capuskicapubul go to [abby](http://archiveofourown.org/users/AmyFick/pseuds/Kolaflor) for beta-reading this and being the lovely person she always is. All of the remaining mistakes are mine.

 

The university campus is as beautiful as Iker remembers it to be. Trees are entirely leafless, yet they hold an unique splendour, particullary when the sunset serves as a warm and pleasant background. The landscape, the contrast of colours are perfect to capture into a painting.

It’s been months since Iker last showed up in there, the wind was less cold and people didn’t carry any jackets, yet he knows his way around it as if he’d studied there himself. Unai’s university is not as big as others in the city are, but it’s very comfortable, for outsiders as well as for students. And the view, that’s what Iker likes the most about the university. Once, a couple of years ago, his brother took him to the highest place in the whole building, and God, Iker still remembers the perfect view of the city he so dearly adores.

 

The love is strongly present all around him. Couples are together, Iker notices some girls holding stuffed bears and chocolate boxes, some others are relaxing on the grass, petting their significant other’s hair as they lay their heads on their laps. It’s something lovely to see. Even two kids pass by his side, maybe around Unai’s age, holding hands as they head the opposite direction.

Walking a few steps down the stone path, crossing over one of the green fields across the campus, Iker feels his heart beat faster as if he could physically feel Unai’s presence closer to him. Iker doesn’t feel the need to text him, not only because that’d spoil the surprise, but because he knows the place Unai will be at that exact moment. And he doesn’t get it wrong. Just taking a few more long steps on the path, stopping right where the path comes to an end, Iker finds Unai. At a considerable distance, Unai’s silhouette is plainly unmistakable. With a white and deep blue striped jersey and dark jeans, he’s gathered among a group of people, about six other guys around his age chuckling beside him.

 

“Unai!” Iker shouts, one hand curved around his mouth and waving repeatedly with the other. Some people beside him turn to shoot him a funny expression, but Iker does his best to pay them no mind. Unai shifts immediately and his head moves like a fan, trying to find the source of it. Iker allows himself to wave a bit more, until Unai finally seems to locate him.

 

Undoubtedly, nothing compares to the way Unai’s face lights up the second his eyes spot Iker, even from a considerable distance. It doesn’t matter if it’s the first time they see after Iker comes back from training or if it’s the flash moment when Iker is set on the goalpost and Unai is looking from the stants, Iker is always able to recognise the kind emotion behind his huge smile and alive eyes.

 

“What are you doing here?” Unai mouths as he walks towards him. The orange beam of dying sunlight hits Unai right in the face, casting a long shadow as he moves. He’s gorgeous, as ever. His dark hair looks soft as the cool breeze blows in his direction, and Iker can’t wait to run his fingers through it.

“I came to see you,” he replies as Unai jogs the last steps to meet him. Iker keeps his arms open for him, always open, and wraps them tightly around Unai’s shoulders when their bodies crash together. “To pick you up, actually. I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything.”

Unai chuckles right into his ear. “No, you weren’t. Not that I would’ve minded you interrupting some dull conversation, anyway.”

“Glad to know.”

 

Iker lets go of him when he realises it’s already been a couple of minutes of their embrace, and people around them are starting to get interested. Unai doesn’t like to have all eyes on him, and Iker’s doing the best to keep him from being on uncomfortable situations if he can.

 

“Well, let’s go now, _campeón_ , I’ve got something planned for tonight.”

“Oh, have you?”

“Yes,” Iker says with enthusiasm, dropping a heavy arm around Unai’s shoulders. He narrows his eyes in fake suspicion. “Or you’ve got plans already?”

“Yeah, Iker, I forgot to tell you. I am _totally_ going out with someone tonight,” he replies, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“In a way, you are going out with someone tonight.”

“I am, with my big brother.”

“Ouch.” Iker leads his hand to lay on his chest, dramatically clutching at his own heart with a painful expression on his face.

“You didn’t let me finish. With my big brother, who happens to be the most incredible person I’ve ever meet,” Unai repeats in a lower voice, battling his lashes at him. “Is that better?”

 

Their faces are close, noses only inches apart from brushing together, and Iker has to fight the urges to seal their lips together. It seems that Unai likes to tease him when they’re in public, especially when they both know it’s impossible to do anything. Memories of walking the narrow streets of Venice last summer, with Unai’s hand in his, and leaning in for a kiss in the Piazza San Marco, the taste of mint-chip ice cream in his brother’s lips. The few times they’ve dared to kiss in public places have been mainly whenever they’ve visited cities outside Spain. This time now, he finds it difficult to do so. Instead, he sets with sweetly placing a peck on his cheek.

 

“Much better,” Iker replies. “Aren’t you saying goodbye to them?”

Back where Unai friends are gathered, they’re still laughing and two are staring back at them. Iker waves at their direction, forcing a smile. Unai gets closer again, keeping his voice low so only he can listen. “Nah, they’d want to talk to you and they’d tell me to stay a bit longer. Andrés brought booze and they were already asking me to come with them to this party at the other side of the campus. Marcos and the others were crazy because Ana María was going to be there, and she’s single.”

“Oh, Ana María,” Iker echoes, a hint of jealousy in his voice. “Did you want to go?”

“Why would I? My brother’s taking me out on a date. This is far more important.”

 

The words are soft but Unai compensates it arching his brows in amusement, chewing his lower lip a little before bursting into a loud laughter. Iker loves to see him laugh, loves to hear the happiness in his voice, the one that brings back memories of staying up at night during school days, of taking him to the trainings and allowing to meet the players, of tickling his naked torso the moment he wakes up. There’s nothing Iker wouldn’t give to keep Unai happy for the rest of his life.

 

“Let’s go then.”

 

* * *

 

The drive to the italian _ristorante_ Iker visited with Sergio and Xabi a couple of nights ago isn’t long. The place is perfect, not only because Iker already had a good time in there, but also because Unai loves italian food. It's one of the reasons why the first time he took Unai on vacations, they went to the fields of Tuscany. It was as beautiful as Unai was always talking about, but while Unai was mesmerised by the landscapes, Iker was mesmerised by the look on Unai's face. Making him happy is the reason for Iker to breath.

During the ride, while Iker keeps both hand on the wheel and tells him about next week’s UCL match, Unai cups his jaw and forces him to move his head from the road. Iker wants to ask if there’s something wrong, but suddenly his brother’s face is closer, the few freckles on his face clearer as he leans in to crash their mouths together. It’s a quick kiss, over before Iker can appreciate the way Unai’s tongue flickers over his bottom lip as he falls back on the passenger side.

 

“Keep your eyes on the way,” Unai reproaches with a playful smile. “And don’t ask why. Just because.”

 

Iker finds himself starting at Unai for a bit longer, then fixes his brown eyes back on the road, his curving into a small grin.

 

There’s nothing to be ask, he knows _why_.

  
They reach the restaurant about ten minutes later, the moon already hanging white and proud in the sky. Thankfully, there are still a few empty places to park his car, but the amount of vehicles amaze Iker. He parks the car and both of them jump out of the car. Iker fixes his jacket, adjusting the collar and the shirt beneath it. He’s wearing a blue plaid shirt underneath, with jeans and a pair of his favourite shoes.

 

The lampposts illuminate the large parking lot, which is incredibly crowded given the fact it’s not only a Friday but also Valentine’s Day. Iker starts moving towards the eating place, but stops the moment he feels the empty space at his side Unai should be occupying. He turns on his heels, Unai is peering down at his own body with a puzzled looking written on his face.

 

“Unai? You coming?”

“I’m not even dressed properly,” he hears Unai muttering.

“What?” Iker asks perplexed. He moves back at where Unai stands and lets his eyes wander over his body. “Unai, you look perfect.”

“I don’t. You do. I look like someone who’s been in classes for the whole afternoon.”

“Maybe it has a bit to do with the fact you have been in classes for the whole afternoon,” Iker snaps right back at him, laughing it off. He moves until their bodies are barely touching by its sides, and drops one heavy arm around Unai’s shoulders. Iker tilts his head slightly to the right until he’s able to whisper right into Unai’s ear. “You’re gorgeous.”

Unai giggles with flushed cheeks. “Shut up, Iker.”

“No, I really mean it. I’d be getting on my knees for you if I hadn’t booked us a table,” he murmurs, leading his lips further into Unai’s neck to place a small peck. “Now let’s go, we’re 10 minutes late.”

  
His little brother looks as if he had something to add, but whatever it is he keeps it to himself, obediently nodding and allowing Iker to walk him towards the restaurant’s front doors. He’d like to keep his arm on Unai’s shoulder, loves the feel the familiar warmth beneath his fingertips, the contact is always meaningful, but he breaks away to leave the door open for him.

Once they’re inside, a sweet girl in her mid twenties with a black dress greets them the moment they get closer to her desk. She recognises Iker in just an instant, and he’s polite enough to accept her hug and kiss both her cheeks. Immediately, she establishes a fluid conversation with him, explaining how she was sorry for missing the night the other players also visited the restaurant. Iker learns a lot in a few minutes. Cristina is her name, and she is twenty four years old, her parents are the owners of the restaurant. Judging by experience and by the way she’s been touching his arm with long and delicate fingers, she might be interested in him. It doesn’t take long until his brother realises it as well. Unai clears his throat quite loudly, stepping right by Iker’s side, so close together their arms are pressed together. Internally, Iker giggles at himself over Unai’s passive possessiveness.

 

“This way,” Cristina says, finally letting go of Iker’s arm to lead them in between tables and people to the their own. As Iker spots the table in the distance, he dismisses her with a small nod.

 

The restaurant is indeed crowded, all the tables around theirs are taken, couples occupying the seats with dumb smiles carved on their faces. Everywhere he peers at, he finds sincere smiles, warm looks, silly giggles, he can practically sense the love in the way the couples look at each other. He wonders if that’s the way he looks when he stares at Unai.

Iker knows he doesn’t need to, but he pulls the black chair for Unai to sit. It’s not a brotherly thing to do, he realises much as that, but all the people around have their mind on their own business. He also looks the faint rosy colour on Unai cheeks as he settles at the other side of the table.

  
“The main plan was to book a flight to Florence,” Iker comments once they’re taking a look at the menús. He studies it for several seconds, but he’s got in mind what he wants to eat since he booked the table. Iker closes the menú and places it on the table. Instead of wasting his time on reading words that probably don’t mean much to him, he prefers to stare at Unai’s cute and puzzled face. “But you and your goddamn classes— I wouldn’t have been able to talk you into skipping them without having you asking why over and over again. And that would’ve definitely ruined the surprise, wouldn’t it?”

“Are you calling me control freak?” Unai asks with his half his face hidden behind the menú.

“No, I’m not. But you know I’m right.”

“Yeah, you probably are…” Unai replies, rolling down the word as his eyes travel back and forth on the written words. He looks like a little kid whenever he concentrates in things that don’t require much reasoning. “Although this place is nice.”

Iker grins proudly at himself. “I knew you’d like it.”

“You know a lot of things, don’t you, Iker Casillas?”

“I guess I do,” he says with the same cocky smirk. “But I sure know you.”

Unai drags his gaze off the menú to meet Iker’s eyes as the words leave his mouth. “Yeah, you do.”

 

The once empty stage at the corner of the restaurant starts to get crowded with musicians, who start to play traditional italian music. It’s rather pleasant, the singer’s voice is as good as a professional singer’s. Iker really looks up at people who can do magic with their voces, he’s unable to keep in tune whenever he tries to sing.

Once the waitress, a young and freckled girl with long bangs and gentle smile, shows up beside their table, they give her their orders. Unai picks a traditional _spaghetti alla bolognese_ , while Iker settles for _tortellini alla panna_. The last time he was there with the guys, they ordered _focaccia_ , so he makes sure to also ask for a portion for the both of them. They also order two bottles of their finest wine, which suits the occasion. 

 

“How is it?” Iker asks amusedly.

“Oh _my_ ,” he breathes, giving him a thumbs up. He rolls up the spaghetti on the fork once more, eating a mouthful of them. The smiles as he chews it.

“You’ve got— let me.”

 

Grabbing one napkin, Iker stretches his arm to reach Unai’s bottom lip, the one that has a tiny stain of the orange sauce. He wipes it off softly, feeling the blush creeping on his face at the way Una parts his lips for him.

 

“Thank you, dear bro—”

 

Before Unai can finish the compliment,  his phone rings inside his pocket. He picks it up quickly, his brows knitted together in confusion.

 

“Yes?”

“Who is it?” Iker mouths, furrowing his brows together as he pinches several tortellinis with his fork.

“Hello, mum,” Unai says with fake enthusiasm, making emphasis on the word. “Uh, yes, kinda. No? How would I know— But, yes— yes I know. Sure, I will. I love you too, bye.” He hangs up, placing the phone on top of the table and taking a sip from his wine.

“What did she want?”

“She wanted to know if I was alright,” he replies. “Also asked about you, told me to let you know she loves you.”

“Why didn’t you pass her over?”

“Because she asked if I was on a date.” Unai smiles widely. “And I said _yes_.”

 

* * *

 

Fumbling for the keys on his pockets, Iker cannot help but smile broadly at the feeling of Unai’s arms wrapping tightly around his waist. The warmth of his body pressed hard against Iker’s back is more than pleasant, it simply makes Iker forget about problems at Real, about the constant critique from the press, about the additional weight his parents put on his shoulders, about anything that could bug him. Every little kiss Unai places in the back of his neck and shoulders helps to easy Iker’s mind.

He finally unlocks the door, and opens it for Unai to enter the house first. Kissing his cheek in the way in, Unai steps inside taking off the jacket and turning on all the lights. Iker quickly follows after him, closing and locking the door behind him. Unai stands in front of the stairs, but Iker walks pass by him, letting his fingers brush the curve of his waist on his way to the kitchen. The lights turn on to reveal the large amount of undone dishes set in the skin. They’ve been leaving them for tomorrow for the past couple of days, and in the morning Iker said he’d do them.

 

“I probably should—”

“We’ll do them tomorrow,” Unai says behind him, hands against searching for Iker’s hand and lacing their fingers together. “Let’s go upstairs.”

 

Turning, Iker looks at him, at his brown eyes and the way his left eyebrow is lifts in an inviting way Iker knows too well. A small grin on his lips and a gentle tug of his hand is all it takes to get Iker trailing after him. His eyes set on the marked muscles on Unai’s back, the striped jersey that Iker can’t wait to take off so desperately. Peering from the bottom of the stairs at how Unai moves upwards, he allows his eyes to travel Unai’s body, the roundness of his arse against those dark jeans as he climbs one step after another. Iker shakes his head a bit dumbfounded by Unai’s body and hurries up the stairs to stand behind him.

Once they reach the top of the stairs, Unai turns to face him. The brown irises are hidden, blown pupils starting back at him, Unai’s cheeks tainted of a bright pink. Iker wants to say something, wants to tell Unai how beautiful he looks, how perfect and great he is, but Unai gives him no time. His hands take hold of the fabric of Iker’s shirt to pull him closer, until their chests are practically pressed together, and takes Iker’s lips in his own. Iker tastes the sweet taste of wine still present in the corners of his mouth when he deepens the kiss, their tongues moving together languidly, without any rush. They have the night for themselves, and they take their time to get the best out of it, to enjoy every touch, every look, every feel. Iker’s fingers go through Unai’s raven hair, deepening the kiss even more, eager to taste more of the sweetness of his lips.

They don’t need words after they break apart with heavy breathings, the inciting look on their faces is enough. Iker lets Unai be the one to lead him towards the bedroom, both of his hands set like hot iron over his waist, thumbs briefly creeping under his plaid jersey to brush his tender skin, sending slight shivers over his body. They take their time crossing the hallway, stumbling on their own two feet to press against each other, seal their lips together until all Iker can think of is Unai’s tongue and Unai’s eyes and the taste of wine and simply Unai.

The door opens and they rush inside, heading directly in the direction of the bed. Iker craves for Unai’s body the moment he’s pushed towards the bed, landing safely onto the soft mattress and cushions. It doesn’t last long, soon Unai is crawling on top of him, each of his legs at Iker’s sides. The hardness in their pants press together when Unai leans in, and Iker cannot contain a moan from escaping his lips. _Such a tease_ , he thinks as he realises Unai is actually smirking over his lips. If Unai’s hard on pressed against his own wasn’t enough, his brother bucks his hips lightly, _once, twice, thrice_ , until he’s got Iker grunting harshly into the kiss.

With only a movement, Iker is able to shift their positions, rolling on top of Unai with not much trouble. Unai is lighter than him, and shorter, and he doesn’t fight against it. Iker’s hands creep under Unai’s jersey to run over his warm skin while Unai’s settle on his jaw to lead him into him once more, crashing their mouths together. The kiss gets wilder, movements fastening and teeth getting involved as Iker’s thigh presses against his crotch, paying back with the same coin. Before Iker is able to draw back, Unai takes his lower lip with his teeth, biting, nipping, sucking on it until Iker is sure he can taste the blood on his tongue.

 

“Off,” Iker urges him, motioning him to lift his arms to let him take the jersey off. Grinning, his brother does as told without protesting, and Iker is spry to send the piece of clothing flying across the room.

 

Unai’s bare skin is inviting, chest lifting up and down repeatedly in seconds. Iker flashes him a smirk before burying his face on the crook of Unai’s neck. Trailing kisses down Unai’s neck and over of his shoulders, his tongue ghosting over his flesh before nipping at the skin. His teeth nibbling playfully, careful not to put too much pressure, just enough to leave a mark on the pale skin. One of the things Iker loves is Unai’s expression in the morning when he finds several hickeys spread all over his body, the two of them standing in front of the mirror, Iker behind him with his hands set on his hips. They’d laugh about it, Unai would warn him the next time it’d be him the one with the hickeys, and he’d have to find a lame excuse to tell his Real team-mates. Now, Iker only concentrates on the soft exhales coming from Unai’s mouth.

 

“Iker. Wait,” Unai breaths, and he stops. “You too.”

 

He doesn’t have to repeat it. Iker unbuttons his shirt with amazing speed, letting it fall to the floor along with Unai’s. In a way, Iker is aware he’s not as muscular as he could be, he’s no Sergio or Cristiano, but Unai seems to take his time staring at Iker’s upper body, reaching to touch his shoulders, brush his nipples as his fingertips trace a line down his chest to hover his abs. It does surprise Iker when his hand keeps moving downwards until they settle over the zipper of his pants. It isn’t until he stares back at Unai’s brown eyes that he realises how patient Unai has been, how _keen_ he looks.

Iker reaches down too, taking no time on unzipping Unai’s jeans and tugging them down his hips, pulling the grey boxers down as well. Unai does the rest, rolls them down his legs and kicks them off. Iker looks at him, cock almost pressed against his stomach, and he feels himself getting even harder inside his boxers. With a wink, Iker does nothing but run his index finger across the length of his cock, and the heavy moan that escapes Unai’s lips is colossal in the quietness of the room. Iker takes it as an encouragement to run it up again, causing the same response as before, only followed by a deep inhale.

 

“ _Fuck_ , Iker.”

  
It’s the way Unai says his name, with need, with eagerness, that lures Iker into wrapping his fist around his cock, his thumb gingerly hovering his head. Iker gives a couple of pumps, tearing rowdy, sweet groans from Unai’s throat. Iker wants, cannot wait to have Unai whimpering his name and cursing loudly below him by the end of the night.

His hand moves slowly, establishing a steady rhythm in his jerks. Iker feels his own cock throbbing with the sounds that come from his brother’s mouth, he wishes he could at least touch himself to ease the ache. Lean in to take Unai’s lips on his own is all Iker can do, kissing him hard and wet, his tongue dancing with Unai’s as his thumb starts to press harder against the head of his cock. Unai has to break the kiss to let out a moan. As if he were able to read his thoughts, his brother’s hands go back to the zipper of his pants, and they unbutton it without asking for permission. Iker stops from touching him to get rid of his pants and boxers, letting out a relief sigh as the pression of his clothes over his cock is gone. Once more, Unai has to reach for him, has to run his fingers over Iker’s abs, hipbones, until they find Iker’s hard cock. It’s scarcely a touch, only the contact of his fingertips over his length makes Iker bite hard onto his lower lip to keep himself from moaning.

 

“Sensitive today?” Unai jokes, smirking at his direction. Iker’d say something in reply if it weren’t true, or if, impossible as it sounds, it weren’t Unai the one saying it. He knows there’s no malice on those words. On the contrary, Unai’s palm closes around his length, waves of pleasure running across his body, pulling up and down.

“ _Unai_ ,” he whispers. Iker allows his mouth to work on Unai’s neck again, biting at the skin as Unai’s hand moves faster. “ _Unai_.” His brother’s name feel like a prayer, something holy send from Heavens above, an everlasting light in times of darkness. His brother’s name is the only thing he knows. Iker drags his tongue on Unai’s neck, over his Adam’s apple, down to his collarbone. He nips and sucks and bites as his brother fists him rhythmically. “ _Unai_.”

“Iker.”

  
Unai’s voice is just as erratic as his own, and Iker takes that as a hint to stretch his arm and open the nightstand’s drawer. Fumbling among different objects, it doesn’t take him much to find what he’s looking for. Iker lets the little bottle of lube and a small condom box fall over the mattress. Unai unwraps his hand from his length, and Iker longs for the warmth for a second, wishing it would’ve never gone away, but then he glances down at Unai’s body, his perfect and sharp hipbones and his cock pressing against his stomach and— _fuck_ , he’s never seen someone as beautiful as him.

Iker gets off him only to settle between his legs, Unai rearranging himself as well, so his legs are spread apart. Iker breathes heavily as he peers at his little brother like that. Without wanting to waste a single moment, he reaches for the bottle of lube and instantly coats one of his fingers with it. He positions himself over Unai’s entrance, taking a look at his face not to miss the expression as Iker pushes one finger in. Unai moans, tugging him closer and biting hard on his shoulder as Iker starts to work his finger deeper, stretching him wider. Surprisingly, Unai’s palm wraps around his wrist to increase the pace.

 

“ _More_ ,” he grunts softly against Iker’s earlobe, his tongue lingering on his skin for a few more seconds before taking it into his mouth. Without hesitation, Iker lets two more fingers slip in. Despite the loud gasp of air Unai takes the moment he does it, Iker doesn’t worry, he knows Unai’s body as no one else does, and he knows how much he can take.

 

By the way Unai grinds himself against his fingers Iker knows he’s ready. He lets himself take another taste of Unai’s parted lips, the groans echoing on the back of his throat, kissing him until they’re both lacking of air.

Carelessly moving his hand across the bedsheets, Iker tries to reach for the condom box that’s somewhere thrown across the mattress, and his eyes widen in surprise when Unai shakes his hand away. At first he  it was a mistake and reaches out for it once more, but Unai does the same.

 

“No, Iker, not today,” he says taking gasps of air. “Today is special.”

 

Iker doesn’t ask what he means by that, in part because he already knows what’s his point. Another occasion he’d put on his big brother attitude and look for the damn thing that surely is somewhere in between the sheets, but with Unai’s hard cock pressed against his thigh and his own aching with every second that passes by, Iker doesn’t hesitate.

Instead, he reaches for the lube and pours a generous amount on his hand, then running it along the length of his cock. The simple touch of something against his throbbing cock, as well with the sound of Unai’s heavy breathing, make Iker’s body shiver with waves of pleasure.

Slowly, and almost painfully, he presses the head of his cock against Unai’s entrance, trying to keep himself together not to thrust into him right, the bare contact making him moan inadvertently. His eyes are closed and his chest lifts up and down with every breath he takes. Iker reaches to touch Unai’s cock, his strong fingers wrapping around his length firmly, slowly moving up and down in steady movements. Unai is practically trembling underneath him now, moaning and panting, slowly grinding himself harder on Iker’s cock.

 

“Iker, _p-please_.”

 

The need in Unai’s voice is all it takes for Iker to push in without a single thing to add. All the moans that escaped his brother’s mouth before have nothing on the loud growl he gives once Iker starts rocking his hips against him. Unai feels tight, but as Iker thrusts harder he starts to relax. The nails digging on his shoulders move across Iker back, scratching, marking, claiming everything they can.

  
“Fuck.”

 

Iker bucks his hips harder, cock pumping faster into Unai. It’s almost erratical by now, his hand moving at the same pace his hips go. The only thing Iker cares for is the sound of Unai’s cries, the hot warmth of his cock underneath his fingertips, his black hair falling into his eyes, his cheeks blushing crimson red, and just _Unai_. He thrusts harder each time, feeling Unai’s nails digging deeper in his back.

His own breathing is unsteady, and the idea of kissing Unai passes by his mind only for a second. But that’d mean no more moans and pants and cries, Iker dismisses the useless thought. He buries his head on Unai’s neck, grinding harsh with his teeth at the previous red skin.

 

“Fuck, Iker,” he groans. “Just, yes, fuck, yes.”

 

He moves speedly, each thrust sending a bolt of electricity through Iker’s body as he goes deeper and faster. Unai’s hands run downwards, his steady hands hovering all of the muscles on his back while doing so, and they settle on Iker’s arse. And fuck, he squeezes them hard as Iker pumps into him, surely leaving red marks.

 

“Iker, you’re just so— goddammit, _yes_.”

 

“Unai,” Iker hisses against his skin, marking with his teeths anything he can. With every thrust he feels his orgasm building, and knows Unai is closer too. “I love you. _I love you_.”

 

“I—”

  
Whatever he wanted to say got stuck in his throat and came out as a lusty growl. His hand strokes Unai’s cock faster, pumping up and down, rubbing his thumb over his head. Rocking his hips, Iker reaches his climax, grunting harshly as he comes . He believes he could die of pleasure right in that instant. His brother follows him just a few seconds later. Iker keeps on pounding into him, feeling the muscles of his thighs starting to relax when Unai cries out in pleasure as he comes hard and hot on Iker’s fist and over his belly, arching his back on the bed.

  
He collapses on top of Unai, their chests pressed together. He can feel the way Unai’s heart beats against his own, his lips parted and his breathing completely erratic.

 

“You’re gorgeous,” Iker says, his lips brushing the corner of Unai’s mouth.

“You can stop saying that now,Iker. You already got me in your bed.”

“ _Our_ bed,” he corrects him. “And,” he says before taking Unai’s lips in his. It’s soft, loving, almost a bit too sweet for the way they’re in right now. But Unai kisses back with just as much smoothness, his hand caressing the back of Iker’s neck. “I really mean it. You’re fucking gorgeous, little brother.”

“Isn’t it a bit weird to call me that when you’re on top of me and we’re both naked?”

“No, it isn’t.” The seriousness in Iker’s voice makes the two of them laugh like children. “Maybe just a little bit.”

“A little bit too much, I’d say.”

“Are you being a prude now, _brother_?” Iker teases, using the word again on purpose, small and paused giggles leaving Unai’s lips. Iker loves him like that, showing his white teeth and placing small kisses along his jawline.

“Never, _brother_.”

“I’m glad,” Iker breaths. “And you’re gorgeous.”

Unai chuckles. “Only because I look a little like you.”

“You admit it, then.”

“Sort of,” Unai says amusedly. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

  
Iker does.

 

 


End file.
